Tailgating at Mizzou games won’t be the same without Kevin.
A quick editor’s note to start this column:
Our wonderful staff writer Chad Moller asked if he could use his weekly offseason space to write about a close friend of his who unexpectedly pass recently. Given that all sport is a communal experience, the answer in my mind was an automatic, “yes.”
But after having read Chad’s dedication to his late friend, I was struck by how vividly this life can be felt by anyone who has spent time around Faurot Field. The details are remarkable, and I hope this piece makes you laugh, makes you smile and makes you grateful for all the loved ones with whom you share a connection to our wonderful university. Don’t take anyone in your life, especially those whom you love, for granted. Treasure the small moments and, as a departed friend of mine used to tell me, never forget to tell them you love them. (Josh M.)
Forgive me this week for dipping into some personal space that is Mizzou Football-adjacent.
But eff cancer, man.
I write that as an obvious general sentiment in general, of course, but it really hit home last week when we lost a dear family friend – and diehard Tiger Football fan Kevin Kinkade – to the hellacious disease. I won’t go into great detail, but it came as a total shock to everyone, including him.
Kevin was 71, and while he wasn’t exactly Charles Atlas (you young-uns may have to look that up), he was seemingly healthy enough and enjoying his mostly-retired life with his wife Elaine after a long and honored career in the pharmaceutical industry.
One day last week, Kevin started feeling ill and it got bad enough that he decided to go to the hospital to seek help. At a loss for answers, the decision was made to open him up with the hopes of solving the issue. Tragically, his body was riddled with cancer all over his internal organs, to the degree that treatment was a Hail Mary at best. Elaine, a cancer survivor herself, never got a chance to discuss plans to fight this new battle with him, because later that evening, Kevin passed away in the hospital — just a completely jolting occurrence for a guy who had no inkling only 24 hours earlier that the end was coming.
How is this related to Mizzou? Well, Kevin and Elaine were diehard Tiger fans who had season tickets forever and built their entire fall around football games and tailgating. They also made at least one road trip every season to enjoy the Tigers away from home. They also went to many bowl games, and I’m happy to know that they made the recent Music City Bowl, where Kevin had a chance to see his beloved Tigers win the last game he was to attend.
On a quick aside, and not to be too maudlin, but Kevin was also a Chiefs fan. He passed just a couple days before the recent Super Bowl. He might have caught a break there. But I digress.
In Columbia, you could always find Kevin and Elaine in lot N until this last season when they moved across Champions Drive to lot M. For as long as I can recall, they’ve had an RV to bring to the games and they would proudly host countless friends, family, loved ones and even random strangers who wandered into the fray throughout the years.
They were usually one of the first fans in the parking lot no matter if it was a morning, afternoon or evening game, and Kevin loved celebrating Tiger Football with his loved ones so much. His breakfasts on the griddle were legendary, as was his homemade pulled pork. But his signature was getting everyone rounded up to do a toast (or two) to the Tigers every game with his favorite shot — Jack Daniels Honey. He would always lead the toast that celebrated his friends and family, and he’d without fail punctuate it with a heartfelt “M – I – Z!”
Kevin and Elaine meant a ton to me for lots of reasons. As I mentioned they’ve been dear family friends to us for a long time. Among other things, they’ve been angels to my mother Jan, who lost her husband (my stepfather Dyke) back in 2005 to cancer, and my younger brother Erik, who we lost unexpectedly in 2020.
When I was in the college athletics industry, I never got to enjoy game day tailgating, so I had to live vicariously through my wife and daughters, and they learned the art of the trade from Kevin and Elaine. Every home game, they would make their RV the home base for their day of fun, and I had the comfort in knowing my ladies were in good hands while I was away with my work duties.
Once I was no longer in the athletics world, I suddenly got thrust into the wonderful world of tailgating, and I’m pleased to say that I picked it up pretty quickly thanks to the guidance of Mr. and Mrs. Kinkade! During my athletics career, I thought I appreciated what tailgating meant to people, but that was really just on a surface level. Once I got to enjoy it myself, I truly began to understand what it is all about.
Yes, of course it’s about football and getting amped to see our Tigers kick ass. But it’s more than that. It’s about family and friends, yes, but it’s also transcendent. It’s about community and a shared interest that brings people from vastly different backgrounds together. There’s no greater entity than sports that can bring people together, and tailgating is often the elemental glue of it all.
Nobody did it better and with more pride than Kevin and Elaine. I can’t believe he won’t be here to celebrate the Tigers when they kick off in August against Central Arkansas. I’m heartbroken. We all are.
Time will move forward, and the Tigers will kick off on Aug. 30, regardless of what the tailgating scene looks like. But no matter what form it may take for my family and friends, it won’t be the same. We’ll make the best of it no doubt, as that’s what Kevin would want, but it will be bittersweet at best.
This Saturday in his hometown of Vandalia, we’ll say our goodbyes to Kevin at his service. I’m sure there will be a big crowd, because he impacted a ton of lives. We’ll all laugh and cry and reminisce and lament and cope as best we can. It’s a necessary process for us to deal with as humans left here to fend for ourselves on this crazy rotating rock we inhabit.
I don’t know if I really have a point to this column, other than to work through my emotions in a way that is cathartic to me in general — pounding away on a keyboard. I’m pretty sure that I hugged Kevin and told him I loved him the last time I saw him, but I definitely took for granted that I’d get to do it again. I was sorely mistaken.
I’ll try my best to not make that mistake going forward, and I hope everyone out there avoids it too.
You probably didn’t know Kevin, but I bet you saw him at one point at his tailgate spot which was the same for years upon years on the front row of Lot N right against Champions Drive, somewhat across from the bus stop. If you wanted to read about Kevin’s life, his obituary can be found at this link.
I’d love to hear about your tailgating history or maybe what it means to you and your family and friends, if you’d care to share below in the comments.
Thanks for letting me vent. Grace and peace to everyone out there.
And as Kevin would end it — M. I. Z.!!